


The Big Chill

by dragonnan



Category: Psych
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, BDSM gone very very wrong, F/M, Gus is long-suffering, Humor, Hurt Shawn is Churlish, Hurt with sarcastic Comfort, Jules is a Badass, Lassiter is Zero Comfort, No actual sex, Originally posted in 2009, Sexual Experimentation, Shawn Whump, Shawn/Abigail(former), Shawn/OFC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-11 23:46:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7912222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonnan/pseuds/dragonnan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Breaking up is the suck.  One-night stands with barely clothed sex kittens should, by all rights, be lots of fun.  Shawn, of course, has terrible judgement when it comes to women.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Big Chill

Not too loud, gentle background tones, Dreams wove through the curtains of lace and velvet. A blend of synthesized and almost Native-ish from some hidden iPod – raspberry in color as he recalled – wrong fruit given the album but he supposed that could be forgiven. There was something to be said for being the rebound. Though, technically, Ginnifer was _his_ rebound, which wasn't quite as nice. Sure things were looking good on the pity sex front but that didn't help the pathetic and heartbroken part that had so recently been dumped like smelly fish guts off the pier. This was exactly why he didn't do relationships. He didn't like being fish guts. Not at all.

 

Shawn rotated his wrists- the cuffs slightly tighter than he generally cared for. Still, given how new she was to this, as well as her nervousness, he wasn't going to complain. Especially not when she reappeared wearing a very revealing pink teddy and holding a crystal bowl of ice in her hands. Wait, ice? He looked around. He didn't see any beverages...

 

“I read about this in an article on Victoria's Secret! It's supposed to totally simulate the pleasure centers of the brain!”

 

He was about eighty percent certain she'd meant 'stimulate' but seeing as how he wasn't Gus and also wanted to experience some of that pleasuring, he let it slide.

 

"Ooo, you know I chill easily - bad circulation. I hope you have something in mind to warm me up again." He grinned after the smooth request, glad to see her relax a bit more. She giggled. "Well, I could probably think of something." Bending, she checked the silk ties on his ankles.

 

Clearing his throat as he tried to adjust his shoulders (cause man, this was not the most comfortable position) he couldn't help the shiver as her cold fingers began to unbutton his shirt. Her nails were the same shade of pink as her teddy and dusted with glitter. Actually, everything about her was pink. Pink lipstick, pink cheeks, pink tattoo of a heart on her easily visible right breast. Hmm... that was some very shapely ink...

 

“Ah! Haha... ticklish...” He squeaked as her pink and glittery nails skimmed over his ribs on their journey south. He automatically moved to help but was halted by the restraints holding his hands in place.

 

This little kink he hadn't expected – bondage followed by her little suggestion of getting something fun from the kitchen had brought to mind chocolate sauce and whipped cream. Still, he liked trying new things... though he hoped there were towels close by cause a drippy bed was so unsexy.

 

"Oh.." Her lips pouted to nearly an oval - high on the adorable scale as those same chilly fingertips now traced down his bare chest. "What happened?" His brow furrowed, and he nearly pulled a muscle trying to see what had her attention. Oh. _That_.

 

"Nothing." He smiled more tightly, no longer as comfortable and suddenly wishing for an extra layer of cotton. "Okay, truth is, I used to tame tigers..."

 

"You were attacked by a tiger?" He nearly chuckled at the awed gasp. He did chuckle a bit, but in that soothing and attentive way that bespoke more of attraction than pity.

 

"Well, you see, there was an accident involving a nursing female and her seven cubs. A clown on stilts tripped on his way around the center ring and he fell towards the tiger pit. I had to act - those cub's lives were in danger. I jumped in front of them and took a splinter from one of the legs right in the chest. It took three muscle men and a bearded lady named Enos to get it out."

 

She smiled, totally besotted. Not the look he'd have gotten had he told her something closer to the truth – that he'd been born with a misshapen rib, requiring surgery to remove the twisted bone or risk suffocation as his body matured. Didn't help that the removal had affected his spine – leading to a slower development as well as a slight limp that didn't completely wear off until he entered second grade. However, being known as Tripsy all through kindergarten was not an experience he really wished to dwell on.

 

Ginny sashayed into his line of sight. "Ready?" Her head tilted, her eyes growing large enough to show the whites around the cornflower blue. Shawn swallowed, slightly disconcerted. Well he did tell her to do what she wanted with his body. How much of a wuss would he be if he whined now?

 

"Just call me your Frosty little snowman! Actually... actually don't call me- GUH HUH FRUUU MOTHER!"

 

That... was a very sensitive area. And oooo look at that - was that supposed to... "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!" The ice cube tumbled to the floor as his date clapped her hands over her ears, flinching at the piercing pitch of his scream. Damn that was cold! Goose bumps freckled across his body, blending in with the hard peak already jutting up from his chest. This was not sexy! SO not sexy!

 

"Really??" And yelling at his date was probably not the best way to insure her ever removing that silky pink number. Not that there was anything left to the imagination... Meanwhile she frowned - still adorable.

 

"You said you were up for it!"

 

He bit his lip - hard - to suppress the euphemism desperate to get out. It was a battle. A losing battle. "Speaking of up..."

 

Her hand appeared in front of his face, one finger pointing. "You promised you'd let me do what I want!"

 

He groused, grinding his teeth even though Gus had lectured him about wearing down his enamel and the dangers of gingivitis. Taking that as a win, Ginny reached in the bowl for another cube. Resigning himself, Shawn tightened his muscles as it lowered towards his belly. "Hu-hu-hu-HUUUU-COLD COLD!!" There was no way she was sleeping with him if he kept squealing like this.

 

"Of course it's cold, it's ice silly!" She reproached him in her eighth grade education supermodel voice. And she'd sounded so innocent when she'd told him all about her cat named Lunabean with the cubic zirconium collar. Why couldn't they just get to the fun part? Ginny frowned, suddenly slapping his chest. "This is the fun part!"

 

Okay, that was too hard! Seriously - he had a tiny, cute little handprint warming to red on his sternum. Ow! Ignoring his shoulder roll as he once more tried to shift, Ginny leaned forward to press the ice against his lips, sliding it back and forth until it began to melt - trickles of chilly water rolling down his throat. Leaning down, her tongue caught the drops as they wove a path through his stubble. Okay, so this wasn't so bad.

 

He made a small noise of happiness. In that same moment she shoved the cube in his mouth. "GUUACK!" Twisting his head, he ignored the squeal that she now made as his bucking threw her to the floor - the cube following as he spit it out.

 

"What he hell was that!?" He scrubbed his mouth on his bicep while his little ice princess grasped the edge of the bed in one hand, pushing disheveled blonde hair out of her eyes. "Donny!"

 

"Shawn! My name is Shawn!"

 

Her hands went to her hips as soon as she was upright. "Whatever! You promised and now you broke the rules!"

 

Rules? There were rules? He shirked back as her finger pointed again

 

"You broke the rules and now you have to be punished!" Hands on her hips, cheeks flushed, she glowed like dominatrix prom queen. He was suddenly willing for whatever torture she had planned. Please, please say it involved a saddle and spurs – God help his twisted brain!

 

Shawn angled his head back, his eyebrows bunched. "Like, what, you're going to send me to my room?" And then he perked up. "Or are we talking spankings?" Hope burned for several seconds after she smiled. It didn't exactly falter when she reached beneath her bed and brought out a riding crop.

 

"Ooo, that's..." The words vainshed in a furious _SCKRAK!_ "NUUUGH! AHH-AH-AH-AH!!" Sharp cries followed every slap of the thin leather against his belly and chest - hard enough to raise thin welts – but not enough for blood. Well thank Jenna Jamison for small favors.

 

"STOP-STO-NUH-STOP!" She halted – glaring - eyes no longer as pretty and sweet. Well, still a little pretty...

 

"Okay forget what I said about torture, quit smacking me!" Said? Thought? Semantics. His voice cracked a bit - and wasn't that just so attractive - and then he winced as the crop was thrown carelessly to the floor.

 

"Well then maybe you'll behave yourself, won't you Donny?"

 

He breathed out a grunt as she tickled his side. "Nuh! Y-yeah, sure..."

 

Resigned to playing Edmund to her White Witch, Shawn closed his eyes and thought about palm trees as once more her hand trailed to the bowl. His abdomen clenched helplessly as the cube pressed into his navel. After a second though it actually felt okay - almost soothing the burn of dark pink striping his belly.

 

"Mmm..." His hands slowly loosened from their clench as the cube traveled back and forth. He might just end up a puddle after all. Or in one. Speaking of.. He twitched as a tiny waterfall spilled down his side and collected at the small of his back. Frowning, he heard a slight shift. Cracking one eye, he caught the contented smile on Ginny's face.

 

"I think you're ready."

 

He pursed his lips in the beginning stages of the obvious question. And then she bent down once more, and returned with a roll of duct tape. His eyebrows shot ceiling-ward as a hunk tore free.

 

"Whuu-MMPH!" The force she used to slap it over his mouth was hard enough to bruise teeth, and he instantly launched into a long and completely unintelligible argument about how this was not the best way to begin a twenty-four hour relationship.

 

Given that his bargaining wasn't concise enough to break through the sticky gag, he settled for whimpering when the bowl of ice was suddenly lofted over his head. "Goodnight Shawn." She smiled, and threw the bowl.

 

 

(*(*(*(*()*)*)*)*)*)

 

 

 

 

His eyes were sticky. No, wait... not just his eyes. His face felt like someone had covered it in honey and left it to dry. Only, it didn't taste like honey. Not unless the honey had been marinated in raw hamburger. Could a liquid be marinated in a solid? Well his dad did like to experiment at times. But that still didn't explain why it was dumped all over his scalp.

 

"Guuumph..." Was that a word? It didn't sound like a word. Did he just have sex? God he hoped not or he was never doing it again. Not if he woke up feeling like this.

 

"Good morning sleepy! Well, not really morning cause it's still dark out."

 

Oh crap, one of the Lollipop Guild. Wait, this wasn't Willie Wonka's factory... Shawn tried to open his eyes - well, eye given that one of them was glued shut. The other creaked open only just enough to let in a gray sort of light. "Huzzat?" Nice, a solid word. Now to use it in a sentence. "Huzzat..." _Abby? Mom?_ "Ooles?"

 

Shout sting and crack rang out at the same time. "I AM NOT THAT SLUT!" Not Jules. Crap. Double crap cause memory was deciding to wake up too now all blinky eyes and tired baby yawn. Cold ice, pink teddy, blue eyes, handcuffs... heavy crystal bowl cut with the shapes of roses and doves on the outside... Definitely not honey drying on his face.

 

"Ummph." He figured sight would not really help right now - he already knew where he was. He felt... wet. Really wet. Gross. Silk was awesome when it was dry. Soaked through with melted ice cubes? Not so much. And he hadn't even gotten around to internally wailing about his pounding skull. That's it, no more picking up chicks at Krispy Kreme.

 

He heard a familiar metal clanking followed by the sensation of motion in his... arms? What the hell happened to his arms - Oh SHIT! SHIT SHIT SHIT GAAH!

 

"HUURRRRMMM!!!" He couldn't hear them but apparently six billion killer bees had descended on his arms butt first. "FUCK!" This time the slap barely registered. "Watch your language!"

 

Writhing and digging his heels into fabric was complicated by the fact that his ankles were apparently still tied with yet more silk to the baseboard – not doubt fully intact little bows also in place.

 

“If I knew you were such a baby I would never have said yes when you asked me out! God, a little fun and you totally get flaccid!”

 

“Hey!” Okay, now he was offended.

 

He still couldn't break the seal on his left eyelid, though he continued to try - lifting his eyebrow high up his forehead in the attempt. At least his right eye was benefiting, though he wasn't sure he was happy for the fact. Ginny Leatherface Underall was standing over him, still draped in see-through pink, but holding something that made his questionable heartbeat hammer at gerbil speeds.

 

“Uh... sweetie?” He leaned back as she neared – his lips stretching tight across his teeth in a grimacing smile. “What, uh, are you planning to do with that?”

 

Colgate white smile flashing back slightly too happily, the perky pink sultress pressed her fingertip against the point of the icepick. "What do you want me to do?"

 

Oh he was not in the mood to be teased. Apparently she didn't click on his discomfort - possibly it was masked behind the not honey disguising his expression like a thin mask. Also, the wince of pain could be read as arousal... right? It must cause now she was climbing on the bed to straddle him and WATCH THE KNEE!

 

Shawn's eyes stayed tightly shut until he'd assured himself that he wouldn't be the next singing sensation on the soprano circuit. But, as before, opening them again proved to be a mistake what with the metal tip of the icepick half an inch from his right eye.

 

"HUUUH!" He would have lurched back but he was already pressed as deeply into his pillow as he could get.

 

"You have really pretty eyes!" Damn! This wasn't the White Witch and Edmund! This was Little Red Riding Hood and the wolf! And he KNEW how that story ended - thank you dad!

 

"I have colored contacts!" Really Shawn? Really? And he so didn't have time for Gus's voice in his head right now!

 

"Just hold very still..." I'm hunting wabbits. Crap, he was so toast!

 

"No – WAIT!"

 

She grasped his sticky spiky hair by the roots and aimed for the center of is cornea. Shawn gasped.

 

"SBPD! Hand's up, NOW!"

 

"Jules!”

 

Juliet and Lassiter crashed dramatically through the beaded curtain, weapons leveled and eyes stern... up until they took in the soft porn action taking place before them. Juliet blinked. “Um...”

 

The Shawn felt movement and his eyes widened. “Look out!"

 

Rainbow Brite not grateful for the interruption to her lobotomy session, Ginny twisted sideways and chucked the weapon at Shawn's Supergirl in a pantsuit heroine - both losing her weapon and leaving herself wide open for the blonde tackle that followed seconds later.

 

"Ooph!" Air completely vacated as both beauties launched into a full on catfight using Shawn's stomach as a handy platform - no mud or Jell-O in sight either, he'd have enjoyed this far more if he could actually breathe.

 

"Ju... Juuhhulz..." Airy gasps weren't getting through - likely cause the object of his suffocation was currently wrapping her forearm under Crazy in Pink's jaw.

 

"You are under arrest! MMph! You have the right - gnuh - to an attorney!" Wrestling the curvy burden from her prey, Juliet dragged Ginny to a safe and comfortable distance of about ten feet while her partner gave the room a once over before sauntering to the not-honey soaked man slowly dying on the bed.

 

"Jesus, Spencer!" Wrists were released fairly easily given that the key was sitting on the end table. The silk ties, interestingly enough, proved to be slightly more challenging. Of course, by the time Lassyface had given up on untying and simply pulled a knife for the job, tingle tickle had ratcheted up to the sixth circle of hell. Groaning and kicking his feet - very much to Lassiter's irritation when a sock covered heel impacted his shoulder - Shawn gave in to his closetful of agonies and ouchies and let himself deteriorate into whimpers.

 

"God, you really are a manwhore aren't you!"

 

"Carlton!"

 

Bickering between the two detectives overlapped by angry sobbing from Stabby Pants soon blended into a comforting roar of the ocean. It was just so soothing. Sooo soothing...

 

 

 

(*(*(*()*)*)*)

 

 

 

 

"Dude, I can't believe you picked up a serial killer."

 

Shawn slouched even further into the couch, trying not to rub the goose egg on his temple. Partly because he'd been repeatedly lectured about messing with his stitches.

 

"Did I mention she didn't _look_ like a serial killer? And how was I supposed to know the cops were looking for her?" His hand drifted towards his forehead only to have it slapped away by Gus. "Ow!"

 

"Maybe because Lassiter told us yesterday that they were closing in on a serial killer that had murdered three guys in the past month!"

 

Now nursing his abused hand, Shawn glowered petulantly. "Well how was I supposed to know it was a girl!" He hissed. Not meeting Gus's eyes, he bunched his eyebrows. "My God, am I losing my touch? Surely not! Am I really _that_ guy? High heels and huge... earrings and suddenly I'm thinking with Little Shawn?" He looked up in horror. "Gus! Did I nearly die because I followed my hormones?"

 

Gus rolled his eyes. "One word Shawn Lindsay Leikin.”

 

"That's two words." Dropping his head to his hands, Shawn hissed - then yelped when his fingers were bent back painfully. "OW! Dude, your bedside manner sucks! Way to torture your patient, Doctor Evil!"

 

"You aren't my patient Shawn! You're the one that signed out of the hospital AMA so deal with it!"

 

"I don't know why you're bringing the American Music Awards into this, though I did hear harps playing – gently - while my skull was being stitched back together."

 

"Against medical advice, and the only thing _you_ did was sing Roll Out the Barrel in German!"

 

"I know German?" Shawn snuck a quick rub before receiving another stinging reprimand.

 

"Apparently you do when you're drugged. Speaking of which, it's time for your pills."

 

With Slappy making his way to the opposite side of the office, Shawn indulged in a good long massage. Of course, doing so quickly made his collection of gouges burn ferociously. His whimper drew attention and when he glanced up sheepishly Gus stood before him; glass of water in one hand, pills in the other, and shaking his head.

 

Wordlessly he passed over the medication, which Shawn wasted no time in swallowing down.

 

The glass of water was finished in three gulps, the taste of chalky bitterness still lingering. "Guh - are there any brownies left?"

 

Gus took the glass back to the sink, his permanent frown etching even deeper. "No, you ate them all yesterday and spent half the night hanging over the toilet!"

 

Shawn mimicked the lecture soundlessly before shoving upright and making a leaning stumble towards the kitchen as well. "Well you didn't have to let me! What kind of friend are you anyhow?"

 

Vertical was not his friend, and soon he was groaning as he leaned against the counter - his hands wrapping over his ears. “Dude, could you rinse any louder? Besides, there was only water in that glass - you could've just stuck it back in the cupboard."

 

Gus spared him a look usually reserved for large dogs covered in mange and... big teeth. "It also happened to be rife with your cooties!" He cut himself off with another - more intensive look. "Have you been putting away dirty dishes Shawn!?"

"...No?"

 

Growling, Gus began tearing through the cupboard - removing their small stash of plates, bowls, and cups. "Shawn, there's dried cereal in this one!" He gaped as he peered in a cup shoved deep into the darkest corner. "Oh my Go... Is this... Shawn, there's..." Gagging, he pitched the cup with the mysteriously greenish-black interior into the trash. "Great! Now I'm probably going to catch rhinovirus!"

 

Shawn snorted, though it hurt to do so. "Gus, you can't catch STDs from mold."

 

"It's the common cold, Shawn."

 

"Okay, what have I said about using scientific words for normal stuff?"

 

"Rhinovirus is a well-known term!" Cupboard finally cleaned, Gus next grabbed the Lysol - at which point Shawn retreated back towards the living room.

 

"Yeah? Well last week you told a client that the sofa was an ottoman!"

 

Cupboard fully saturated with noxious spray, Gus bumped on the faucet again and added soap to the first load. "No, _you_ called it an ottoman. I corrected you by explaining that ottomans don't have arms or backs."

 

Bored in spite of the beginnings of a very good debate, Shawn sat back down on the 'ottoman' and maneuvered himself onto his back - one arm draping over his eyes. "Yeah, well you could have backed me up. How do you expect us to snag prestigious clients with ordinary furniture?"

 

The pounding wasn't lessened much by the pills, but the sensation of drifting had increased exponentially. To show his disapproval for both, he whined. Loudly.

 

"Guuus... my head huuuurts."

 

The water shut off. There was the sounds of rustling - muffled a bit with his bicep pressed over one ear and the other mashed against the 'ottoman' cushion. Then the footsteps came his way. Pulling his arm down to crack one eye, Shawn glared at the offering in Gus's hand.

 

"Oh that isn't even funny."

 

Dropping the bag of ice on Shawn's stomach, Gus returned to the kitchen. "Well then maybe next time you'll think twice about washing your dishes."

 

Gingerly resting the ice against his battered skull, Shawn muttered grumpily.

 

"Yeah. Next time I'm just throwing them in the trash."

**Author's Note:**

> Part of my Psychfic series, "A Hundred Tales of Torture, Terror, and Possibly Twinkies"


End file.
